


Heartbreak Hotel

by eratothemuse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean's POV, Dean's drinking, F/M, Fluffy end tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 00:11:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16984437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratothemuse/pseuds/eratothemuse
Summary: Dean may have just lost you for good this time.





	Heartbreak Hotel

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Imagine: Imagine Dean losing you because he slept with someone else to get his mind off you, but he didn’t realize you were in love with him too until Sam tells him you’re gone.  
> This is a request for anon based on the imagine linked above. I hope I wrote Dean’s POV well. I’ve never done it before! I hope you like it!  
> \- Meg <3 xx

****

**[Dean’s POV]**

This bar was better than most. It didn’t smell like liquor and piss, but more of liquor and sweat. Probably because the bar merged into a darker area where people were dancing, my ears thumping with that crap they call music nowadays. But still, anything that didn’t smell like piss was an up in my book.

Usually I would be celebrating. We’d just finished a hunt. Lived to die another day. But watching the way she moved was worse than death. Hips swaying to the beat of the music as she danced with Sam. Both of them were laughing, dancing away the horrors that were seen tonight. It was good to see the tiny bit of happiness, but it also made my heart twist with something I definitely should not be feeling right now.

Especially for a hunter. A girl like that, she was a heartbreaker. I’d seen her do it. Leaving a boy in every port much like my brother and I had done before. I say ‘before’ because since she started hunting with us, the only port I’ve wanted to hit was the girl sitting in the backseat of the impala.

The whisky burns as I take another swig, but I’m used to it. I scoff at the thought of what she’s done to me. Used to pride myself on being the heartbreaker, not the heartbroken. The worst part was, (Y/N) had no freakin’ clue that with every move she made I cracked more and more.

She deserved better than ol’ bagged down Dean Winchester, and I should just put her behind me, but damn it I’ve always been selfish.

“Here,” another whiskey slides my way on the bar top, “You look like you need it more than I do, hun.” I turn to look at the person connected to the feminine hand that grazed mine. She’s a knockout, like they usually are. Redheaded, doe eyes that could make you cry, plump lips that were accented by freshly applied red lipstick, a rack to die for. I could kill myself with how much I didn’t care- with how much I wanted it to be someone else standing next to me.

“Call me Dean,” I took the drink, and turned on the charm. I needed to get my mind off of (Y/N), even if only for an hour or two.

* * *

“See ya later, sweetheart,” I smiled as I walked Mandy (or was it Maggie?) to the door. She turned, getting one last kiss as she slipped a piece of paper into the front pocket of my jeans.

“Hit me up, Dean.”

“Sure thing,” I lied, enjoying the sway of her hips as she walked out into the night. I shut and locked the door behind her, leaving the bolt undone for when Sammy and (Y/N) got back.

And then I’m thinking about her again. The flood of emotions leaves a sour taste on my tongue as I sit down on one of the crappy beds.

“Snap out of it, Winchester,” I grunt, shaking my head before snatching my discarded t-shirt off the floor. I pull it on, making a reach for my boots as I hear the slick of a keycard at the door.

It’s pushed open roughly as Sam’s feet trod onto the speckled carpet, “Hey, there you are.” I tilt my head as I laced up a boot, brow furrowing as I notice he’s alone, “Why isn’t (Y/N) with you?”

Sam snaps, slamming the door behind him, “You really blew it, Dean. You know, to be as smart as you are, you sure can be oblivious sometimes.”

I lean back at his tone, laces forgotten, “Woah, there, Sam. What is going on? Where’s (Y/N)?”

“Gone, Dean,” he scoffs, running a hand through his hair, “because seeing you take someone else to bed was too hard to watch.”

“Gone? What the hell do you mean she’s gone?” my mouth is dry as a bone, and I find myself taking back to my boot laces with a quicker pace as Sam goes on.

“Just what it sounds like, Dean. (Y/N)’s headed to the bus station for a one way ticket back home.”

“And you just let her go? Why the hell woul-”

“You know that no one stops (Y/N) when she’s got something in her head. She woulda’ ripped me a new one if I’d tried.”

I’m already grabbing my jacket, taking the keys to Baby off the nightstand, “You should have tried harder!”

“Don’t go yelling at me just because you screwed up!” I push the finger Sam’s poked into my chest away from me as I stalk towards the door, “Or more accurately, because you screwed  _someone_.”

“Get the hell out of my way, Sam. I’m going after her before I lose her for good.”

* * *

She saw me coming. I know she did. The way she grabbed her one bag and shifted to get up off the bench as the impala screeched to a stop in front of her told it all. I jumped out, slamming the door harder than I’d intended as I stride towards her retreating figure.

“Don’t run from this, (Y/N),” I call after her. Her pace slows, and I sigh relief as I catch up with her. The relief is gone as soon as I see her face. Red eyes and a swollen nose; its obvious she’s been crying.

There she goes breaking my heart again.

I reach for her, gently taking her shoulder in an attempt to get her to stay, “Don’t go. You can’t leave me to eat Sam’s rabbit food alone.”

(Y/N) smiles despite herself, bringing up a hand to wipe at the tears that threaten to spill again, “There’s nothing that’s keeping me here.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t- I just-” she chokes on her words, “I don’t know what I thought. T-That you and me- That we were-”

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself with a tug at her bag, “None of that matters now, because I was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed-” (Y/N) doesn’t get to finish, because I’ve pulled her flush against my chest. Holding her to me in an embrace that I honestly couldn’t let go, terrified that if I do she’ll leave.

“You were right,” it comes out rough as I feel her silently shake with sobs, “I was the one who was wrong. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I’ve been pushing this away- these feelings I’ve had for you. I thought you deserved better. That you couldn’t love someone so messed up and broken-”

“Dean,” her fingers graze against my chest, “We’re both broken. You’ve just got to pick up the pieces and glue yourself back together.”

“Well I guess I could use some help with that, huh?”

She laughs out in a huff, sniffling as she pulls me closer, “No chick flick moments.” And I kiss her, inhaling deeply as I give into the raw  _need_  for this- for her. The thud I hear must be her bag hitting the pavement, because both her arms are wrapped around my neck and tugging me closer. Her lips move against mine, just as deprived as I am. Just as needy.

We only pull away when I can barely breathe, panting against her lips, “You’re staying, right?”

“After all that you’re damn right I’m staying.”


End file.
